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<title>your scent is still here in the place of my recovery by gabriphales</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23949919">your scent is still here in the place of my recovery</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales'>gabriphales</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>gomens drabble hell [30]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Past Abuse, Self-Harm, Trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:29:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23949919</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>aziraphale doesn't like visits from sandalphon</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>gomens drabble hell [30]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>your scent is still here in the place of my recovery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi this is just another vent fic from me do not mind</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>he's terrified. there's twelve and a half reasons he'd rather be anywhere else than where he is right now. and his impending company constitutes all of them. </p>
<p>the doorbell chimes, it's a faint, pleasant jingle that makes aziraphale's stomach turn. flipping inside out, tempted to come spilling out his body any moment now. his knees quiver where he's tucked them to his chest. he burrows his head further between them. he doesn't want to go out there. doesn't want to be seen.</p>
<p>it's not fair, he's decided. not fair that gabriel was too busy to lead the visit this time, not fair that of all the angels to be chosen in taking his place, they chose <i>them.</i> not fair that he has to huddle up in his own home, choking up metaphorical vomit that, really, is only not literal because he's turned that feature off for the time being. he shouldn't feel so unsafe, shouldn't feel so alone.</p>
<p>but he is alone. alone, and estranged, abandoned with the one person he can't stand more than anything. and there's nobody coming to save him. nobody coming to hold his trembling hands.</p>
<p>he'd give up if the option were even remotely feasible.</p>
<p>instead, he scratches at his own skin, just the soft flesh of his inner wrist. watching as white flesh turns red and irritated, flushing pale, then filling out with blood underneath the surface. he taps his thigh with the blunt end of his pen. then taps harder - the pen clicks open, and he hardly cares as he goes on with stabbing himself ever so slightly.</p>
<p>still, he can't mess this form up too badly. he has to be presentable, after all.</p>
<p>the rise from his seat, and acknowledgement that he's leaving his backroom now - he has to be brave, has to go through with this - is always the hardest thing. there's never a calm before the storm. from the moment they arrive, aziraphale loses his wits entirely. goes mad with a pestilent fear, wracking himself wild with unrestrainable worry.</p>
<p>he opens the door, and sandalphon is already out there. waiting for him. silent, reserved, yet indubitably expecting something. they have an air of never being fully satisfied, always pecking after more than they've been given, more than they should get.</p>
<p>it makes aziraphale sick to his stomach. sicker than he'd already been before.</p>
<p>"look who's here, nearly thought you weren't home." sandalphon laughs. it's loud, unfiltered. the kind of noise that crumbles your eardrums into little pink bits of dust and flesh. aziraphale's never felt weaker in his whole life.</p>
<p>(except for every other time he's had to meet with sandalphon. except for every time he hears their name, and has to steep quietly with a boiling nausea weighing down his tongue, filling his mouth with drool.)</p>
<p>"ah, yes. you - you caught me at a bad time. was simply, er, reorganizing a few shelves. back there, i mean." aziraphale stammers his way through a conversation that seems to decompose him where he's standing. there's very little that can kill an angel. but he thinks this just might be an underrated method. his destruction feels imminent. more vehement and vicious than a pot of churning hellfire.</p>
<p>he tries not to think about that too hard. tries to focus on the positives instead. if he can just take himself away from this situation, if he can cloud over his mind with something hopeful, things to look forward to - oh! he and crowley have reservations for that new sushi bar down the street. and he's started a habit of baking for himself. it's more difficult than one might think, actually, even with miracles to waste. and what else, what else, what <i>else</i> is there - </p>
<p>sandalphon's hand is on his shoulder. he quite nearly blacks out at the impact.</p>
<p>"looks like you've got everything under control. keep up the good work, wouldn't want me showing up more often, would we? gets in the way of both of our schedules." they chuckle, humorless and dry, a poor attempt at mimicking human behavior. aziraphale laughs with them, but he wants to shout. wants to back down and <i>scream,</i> scream <i>'don't touch me, please, i can't take it. it's killing me, you're killing me, get away.'</i></p>
<p>but he stays very still, and very, very quiet instead. sandalphon takes their leave as if nothing is remotely out of place, then. toddling off back upstairs, at least, aziraphale hopes back upstairs. though he's quite terrified they might be lurking somewhere still, waiting to lurch in on him, waiting to touch, waiting to <i>touch.</i></p>
<p>his hands are still shuddering when he clutches at his telephone. he nearly drops it, the poor machine.</p>
<p>"if you wouldn't mind coming over, i find i'm in desperate need of urgent company. right now."</p>
<p>"of course, angel. you can keep the doors locked. i'll find a way in, don't worry."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is the vent ur trauma by projecting it on fictional charas club !!! sign up here uwu</p></blockquote></div></div>
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